


Back To Us (Getting There Is The Hard Part)

by flipflop_diva



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Five-year time gap, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, POV Tony Stark, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: Forgiveness is hard, but sometimes it's the only way to heal. For everyone.(It's been one year since The Snap. And Tony has someone to see.)
Relationships: Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78
Collections: Hurt Comfort Flash Exchange





	Back To Us (Getting There Is The Hard Part)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meatball42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/gifts).



> For the prompt _Emotional comfort on a meaningful anniversary_

The compound was eerily silent, akin to a ghost town as Tony touched his hand to the front door, letting it open with a slight creak. He really should have someone fix that, he thought, as he stepped inside.

He looked around, unease settling in his stomach. He hadn’t been here in almost a year, not since they had returned from killing Thanos. They had all been so angry that day, so disappointed, so grief-stricken. He hadn’t wanted to ever look back, at the compound, at them, at the whole entire thing. He had taken Pepper’s hand and left them all behind. And he hadn’t thought twice about it.

Nebula had been the only one he had seen. Something about being trapped in space and playing cards with a person and thinking you were going to die together had bonded them like he hadn’t expected. Not that they had coffee or invited her over for Christmas dinner, but he had seen her, from time to time. Had checked in on what was happening when she and Rocket were back on Earth. It was good to know a little bit about what was going on around him, he told himself.

Except the last time he had talked to her, she had let something slip that Tony had desperately wished she hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted to know. He hadn’t wanted to care. They weren’t part of his life anymore.

“She was your friend,” Pepper had said to him quietly a few nights later, as they sipped their coffee and stared at each other. “She is your friend.”

“She betrayed me.” His tone was still bitter, even after all this time. Maybe because he should have known. Maybe because he’d thought she had finally been real with him and it turned out she’d just been lying.

“Yes,” Pepper said reasonably. “And no. She was just trying to do what she thought was right, like all of you.”

“Why are you defending her?”

“I’m not defending her,” Pepper said. “I’m just reminding you that what happened was complicated. For everyone. And that these are your friends we’re talking about.”

“Former friends.”

“Then why have you spent that past five days thinking about her? You know you care.”

Tony sighed, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“You should go see her tomorrow,” Pepper said.

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Well, I was going to take Morgan to visit my parents, so if you’d rather come spend the day with them. Last time my mom called, she did have some things she wanted to talk to you …”

“Okay,” Tony interrupted, as Pepper smirked just so. “I’ll go tomorrow.”

\--

Tony stepped further into the compound. There was no noise at all. No sounds of walking or talking or equipment running. Not even the low hum of the air conditioning.

He looked around at everything, most of it exactly as it had been the last time he was here, and took another deep breath. He could leave, pretend he was never here, tell Pepper he’d changed his mind. Sure, she’d reprimand him a little, but he could handle that.

He stole a quick glance back at the door. Nebula’s words echoed through his mind.

“Natasha cries a lot,” she had said, so matter-of-fact, when Pepper had asked her how her missions were going and she had said there hadn’t been very many new ones lately, so she and Rocket had just been keeping watch on other planets as best they could, and Pepper had asked her why.

Tony turned his attention straight ahead. Pepper was right. He could leave, but he would never stop thinking about her if he did.

He checked the office first, but it was empty. A few pieces of paper scattered on the desk. A pair of ballet slippers lying on the floor. 

Tony stared down at them. He had never seen Natasha dance, even though Clint had once told him she did.

He checked the gym next, but that was also empty. Most of it looked like it hadn’t been touched in weeks. Except the punching bag. 

Tony walked closer, bent down, his hand hovering above the bloody bandage lying on the ground beneath it.

He tried the common room after. All the lights were off, the windows closed, the heat almost suffocating. He turned to leave, to go check the personal rooms, when he heard it. A very tiny breath of air.

He turned back around, and this time let his eyes adjust more to the dark. He realized then the lump of blankets on the couch was alive.

He walked over to her.

He could only see her eyes through the blankets covering her, but they were open, watching him, her expression entirely blank. He wondered briefly how she wasn’t suffering from heat stroke.

“Hi,” he said, crouching down to be eye level with her.

“Why are you here?” Her voice was softer than he remebered, a little hoarse, like she hadn’t used it much lately.

“Not the greeting I was hoping for.”

“Go away.”

“Also not the greeting I was hoping for.”

She closed her eyes. “Leave me alone, Tony. You don’t belong here.”

“Last time I checked I still pay for this place.”

Her eyes opened back up. “Do you want me to go?”

He ignored that and readjusted his position, so he was sitting fully on the ground now. “Nebula says you cry a lot.”

Her neutral expression faltered for just a second. She blinked. “It was once. Nebula talks too much.”

Tony snorted. “Nebula barely talks at all.”

Natasha didn’t answer, so Tony looked around. He could see an empty glass on the long table, a book that looked unopened on one of the other chairs.

He looked back at Natasha, at least what he could see of her. He tried to remember if he had ever seen her sick or legitimately upset at something.

“Where’s Steve?” he said, even though Nebula had told him about the captain’s new apartment in Brooklyn. And about Bruce’s teaching job. And Thor’s return to New Asgard.

“I don’t know,” Natasha said.

“I thought he was your BFF?” Tony couldn’t help the bitter note that crept into his voice, even though he hadn’t meant it to. “Him and Clint. After all, you’d betray anyone else for them, right? They’re the only ones who matter?”

“Don’t.” A whisper this time.

“Don’t what?” He was pushing her, he knew it. But the way she was still lying there … “Don’t speak the truth? Why? They are the only ones you care about, right? The only ones you’re actually real with?”

“Don’t …”

“So why aren’t you with them? Isn’t that what you want?” He leaned in closer, so he could see her better. She didn’t move, but even in the dark, he could tell her eyes had widened a little. And she was biting her lower lip now. 

“Oh,” he said, already regretting the words he was about to say, but maybe he knew her better than he thought. “I get it. They don’t want you. That’s it, isn’t it? They’d rather not be with _you_. You didn’t choose this separation. They did. _They_ don’t want _you_ anymore.”

He would have kept going, all day if he had to, but her sniffle interrupted him. He watched as a tear escaped her eye and dripped down her cheek.

He reached up and put a hand over where he thought her arm was under the pile of blankets. She flinched.

“They’re idiots,” he told her. “After everything you’ve done for them, if they left you, they don’t deserve you.”

Another tear dripped down her cheek. She studied him. He knew she knew now what he had done.

Her tongue darted out, licked her lips. “It’s my fault.” Her voice was still soft, a bit shaky.

“What’s your fault? Not stopping Thanos? Not hunting down all the Infinity Stones on your own and destroying them?”

“If I ….”

“If you what?”

She sucked in a mouthful of air. “Do you ever think if we had just been a team still that this wouldn’t have happened? That we would have known sooner?” More tears splashed down her cheeks, and a pain he had never really experienced before clawed at Tony’s heart.

“And that’s your fault?”

“I betrayed you,” she whispered. “If I hadn’t … if I’d found a different way … if I just …” She paused. “It’s my fault,” she repeated, almost stubbornly, and he was tempted to smile. That sounded more like the Natasha he knew.

Tony pushed aside the mountains of blankets she was lying beneath. Her hands were tucked under her head. He tugged on her arm until she let him take her hand. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, mingling a little with the snot dripping from her nose. He had never seen her look … well, he had never seen her look so _human_ before, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to again.

He used his free hand to push the blankets on top of her head out of the way so he could use his thumb to stroke her forehead and run his fingers gentle through her hair. It was tangled and oily. He wondered when she’d last showered. Or ate. Or did anything.

“It’s not your fault,” he said gently, and he was almost surprised to find he believed it. After all these months of thinking of her with an ache in his heart … “You did what you thought was right. We all did. I messed up. Steve messed up. We all messed up. This isn’t on you.”

“But …”

“But what?” he said. “We can all ‘What if?’ all day, but it doesn’t change anything.” Something clicked in his mind then. “That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it? Trying to keep the Avengers together?”

“I have to.”

“Except you’re lying on the couch and Nebula says you haven’t contacted anyone in days.”

A fresh wave of tears appeared in her eyes. “It’s been a year today,” she whispered.

“I know, Nat.” Everyone knows, he didn’t say. The whole world. Memorials and remembrance ceremonies in every country and every city today.

“I miss them.” Her voice broke.

“I know, Nat,” he said, although he wasn’t completely sure if she was talking about the Snap victims or Steve and Clint. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“I’ve never missed anyone.”

“You didn’t miss me? Really? I am offended.”

She sniffed, the corner of her mouth turning up. Not quite a smile, but he would take it.

“Tell me you missed me,” he said. “You know you did. I’m by far the best looking Avenger. And the smartest. And the funniest.”

“And the most humble,” she said.

“Exactly.” He ran his fingers through her hair again, but this time he tugged on a piece so he could hold it up for her to see. Her red was starting to come in again, a sharp contrast to the platinum blonde that was never really her.

“When’s the last time you washed your hair?”

“I don’t know.”

“When’s the last time you went outside?”

She shrugged.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. He stood up from his sitting position on the floor, taking both her hands in his and tugging her upright. The blankets fell down her shoulders and he could see the oversized Captain America t-shirt she was sleeping in and the ratty sweats.

“Okay,” he told her. “You’re getting some Iron Man pajamas for Christmas.”

She cracked another tiny smile.

“But for now, you go shower. And wash this rattail. And then we’re going to go have dinner. Outside. At a restaurant. The two of us. And no one is going to cry or feel sorry for themselves or talk about what ifs.”

“Tony …”

“No arguments.” He mocked glared at her.

She slipped her hand out of his and wiped it across her eyes. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“You can thank me later,” he told her. “After you’re done looking at the thousand pictures of Morgan I’m going to show you.”

He took her hands again and tugged, pulling her to her feet. She wobbled slightly, and he wondered again when she had last done anything but lie on the couch.

“Okay,” she finally said. She looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she pulled her hands from his and turned to head out of the common room.

He watched her go, not entirely sure what he was doing.

“Healing,” Pepper would have said, and maybe that wasn’t exactly right, but maybe it was close enough for now.


End file.
